


Not even at all

by greedy_dancer



Series: Tumblr ficlets [8]
Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, Notfic, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 15:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1749548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greedy_dancer/pseuds/greedy_dancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick hates a whisper, and a cuddle, and people breathing, and having to give opinions on popstars' records. Or does he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not even at all

**Author's Note:**

> Following the revelation of Nick’s newest pet hates - the extremely reasonable “[people breathing](http://magog83.tumblr.com/post/87913156205/fiona-was-away-today-so-as-you-might-imagine-it),” as well as the fact that he hates when his popstar friends play him their new songs for advice (um, anyone remember “[When One Direction gets some new songs in, a lot of the time I’ll play them to him, see what he thinks](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lJofwEy1zUw)”?) - I started thinking about a story where *someone* does all the things Nick professes to hate on radio. After all, WE ALL KNOW WHO BREATHES.
> 
> (Yes, it’s Harry. You get no points for the answer, because - in my head - the answer is always Harry.)
> 
> ((Beware, fuzzy timeline.))

Okay, so Nick and Harry get together early on, after our usual hesitating and angsting. And here’s the thing: Nick's thought a lot about the age difference in theory - in terms of how much of a pervert it makes him and what the media would say (is already saying) and also how fucking incredible it is that he’s shagging an fit and famous 19 year old. But he's never really thought about the age difference in terms of, like, life experience, or dating style.

Sure, he’s shagged a whole lot of models and club babes who were barely older than Harry, but he never  _dated_ them. And anyway, either they weren't into post-shag cuddles or they were playing it too cool to demand them. 

Even worse, Harry doesn’t demand - that would require him being somewhat aware of Nick’s reluctance. No, Harry just assumes. He plops his legs in Nick’s lap on the couch. He shuffles close in bed until he’s lying half on top of Nick, making him too warm and breathing right in his ear. He takes Nick’s hand in his own and absently plays with his fingers and strokes the inside of his elbow and scratches Nick’s arm hair, even where they’re not alone.

It’s like Harry’s seen a list of Nick’s pet hates and is trying to tick all the boxes.

And Nick - Nick just _lets him._

At first he doesn’t know how to bring it up, and then he just doesn’t have the heart to let Harry know. It’s fine, he thinks; Harry probably just needs to get that stuff out of his system.

So Nick doesn’t say anything, and when he sees his friends’ amused glances at the way Harry’s sitting in Nick’s lap at a party, talking to someone else but playing with the hair at the nape of Nick’s neck, Nick gives them a stern look and mouthes “ _Not a word!_ ”

And then one day, Harry just. Stops. For no reason that Nick can think of, he starts rolling away from Nick before they’ve even caught their breaths, and sitting a foot away from him on the couch. He doesn’t come up behind Nick in the kitchen and wrap his arms around his chest anymore. He doesn’t lean into Nick to whisper hilarious, deadpan remarks in his ear.

Nick freaks out. That’s it, the moment he always knew woud come. Harry’s gone off him.

Nick freaks out, and he hates himself for freaking out, because he knew going in that it was bound to happen, and then somewhere along the line he relaxed into this thing they have and stopped expecting the worst. And now he’s taken by surprise and it’s the most awful thing ever.

So he worries, and stews, and ruminates, and eventually he manages to confront Harry about it. They’re settling down to eat curry and watch something stupid on tv together and Nick holds his arm up, inviting Harry to snuggle into his side like he used to all the time but hasn’t in a while, but Harry just shrugs and says “It’s okay, I’m fine right here.”

And Nick loses it a little bit - which is humiliating because he’s supposed to be the adult in this relationship. But he goes into a full-on strop, all “What did I do?” and “Just tell me if you want to end this,” and it’s so cliché he would cringe if he could spare a thought for it.

And when he looks over at Harry, Harry’s looking at him with this strange look, all wide-eyed and - confused? Which is unexpected, because in Nick’s experience (admittedly limited in real life, but he has extensive knowlege of soap breakups, thank you very much), in these circumstances people tend to look guilty or angry or sad. Not baffled and bewildered.

Eventually Nick calms down and manages to explain what brought this on and Harry goes, “I thought you’d be relieved, seeing as you hate all this stuff!”

"No, I don’t!"

"Yes, you do!"

"No, I _don’t!”_

 _"Yes,_ you - For fuck’s sake, Nick, you said it the other week on the radio!” _  
_

And, oh. Nick didn’t think Harry would hear that.

Harry continues, “And you could have told me you hate it when I play you songs instead of letting me make a fool of myself.”

"Oh. You heard that too?"

Harry looks exasperated. “Yeah, Nick, that too. You do realize the things you say in the morning are broadcast on national radio, yeah?”

And so Nick ends up forced to admit that yeah, he does hate these things in principle, but maybe he just - ugh, so embarrassing - okay, God, maybe he just doesn’t hate them _as much_ when it’s Harry doing them.

And Harry’s face loses the awful uncertain look Nick never wants to see ever again, and Nick tentatively lifts his arm and Harry launches himself at him and latches on like an octopus and they have to microwave the curry because they’re too busy having a desperate shag right on the living room carpet to think about eating right now.

And later, Harry punishes him by fetching his computer and making Nick listen to the whole of 1D’s next album while lying right on top of him on the couch, and it’s awful, Nick too warm, Harry’s arm wedged under his ribs, Harry’s mouth right there against Nick’s neck, so close that Nick can not only hear his breathing and all his gross saliva noises, he can also feel the moist air hit his skin. And to make matters worse, Harry keeps putting him on the spot, whispering questions about what Nick thinks of particular parts and how his voice sounds in various places.

Nick hates it, he really does - he hates it so much that after the last songs ends and the play list loops back to the beginning, when Harry starts wriggling on top of Nick to go turn it off, Nick’s arm tightens against Harry’s waist to keep him right where he is.

The eeeeend.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the _10 Things I Hate About You_ poem (of course). 
> 
> Originally posted [on Tumblr.](http://greedydancer.tumblr.com/post/87937317962/nick-harry-ficlet-inspired-by-nicks-never-ending-list)


End file.
